


Imogen Webster and the Sorting Hat

by GreenEggsalad



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Amish, Butter Churner, Clunk Foot, Dirty Talk, Double Life, Explicit Sexual Content, First Love, First Time, Flustered, Good Albus Dumbledore, Grinding, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts House Sorting Ceremony, Hufflepuff, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Innocent With A Secret Bad Side, Karangi Girl, Love, Magic, Moaning, My First AO3 Post, My First Fanfic, My First Smut, My First Work in This Fandom, Neck Stroking, Nervousness, Norwegian Troll, Orgasm, Other, Passion, Public Sex, Public Squirt, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Smut, Stool Humping, Sweat, The Sorting Hat, Voyeurism, Wet & Messy, Wet Clothing, Wet Clothing Kink, Wet Hands, hat sex, wooden spoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 19:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15589158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenEggsalad/pseuds/GreenEggsalad
Summary: Imogen Webster was an innocent Karangi girl who lived a simple Amish life. She churned butter in her backyard to pass time, and hit her little brother with the wooden spoon when he was naughty. Her reality was flipped upside down when she received her invitation letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, however that wasn't the only surprise in store for her. With her sexual awakening thrust upon her during the Sorting Ceremony, Imogen embarks on a magical journey involving lots of kinky hat sex with the school's Sorting Hat. How will she keep her scandolous relationship a secret? Will she become flustered in the face of the unknown? Are her palms ever going to stop sweating?





	Imogen Webster and the Sorting Hat

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my fellow AO3 users! I hope you enjoy my story!

Imogen Webster, along with her fellow first years who had been invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall. As she walked in, she couldn't help but stare around in awe. Four long tables, that were covered in gleaming goblets and plates, stretched the length of the room with many students and ghosts occupying them. The roof of the Great Hall seemed to be missing at first glance, as it was bewitched to show a perfect replica of the current night sky. Thousands of lit candles magically floated in mid-air above them, illuminating the room. Imogen's hands became slick with sweat at this sight. The idea of magic made her nervous, yet excited at the same time. She still couldn't believe she was a witch.

The line of first years halted in front of the teacher's table. Before them stood a four-legged stool, and on it sat a pointy wizard hat in a patched, frayed and extremely dusty heap. Imogen was staring at a pronounced rip near the brim of the hat when it opened like a mouth and began to sing, startling all of the first years. It sung a song explaining how it would sort each of the first years into the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. However, Imogen was not listening to the lyrics of the song. She was enchanted by the smooth, deep voice that came out of the Sorting Hat, which made her heart race and nerves tingle as if they were on fire. She was pulled out of her trance by the applause of the students and teachers around her, and flushed with embarrassment as her hands began to sweat even more. Imogen hoped no one noticed her reaction.

One by one the first years tried on the Sorting Hat, some for longer than others, as it decided which house they would fit in best. Imogen would be lying if she said she wanted the Sorting Hat to decide quickly for her. She could do nothing else but imagine the feeling of the dirty, old hat sliding against her head, and rejoice at the knowledge that she soon wouldn't have to imagine as she waited in line. Imogen was almost last to try on the Sorting Hat, which gave her a fleeting feeling of annoyance. She didn't want sloppy seconds. However, as she watched the way it slid so effortlessly and smoothly over the boy in front of her's head, she realised that she didn't mind getting sloppy seconds at all.

Finally, Professor McGonagall yelled, "Webster, Imogen!"

With shaky legs, Imogen advanced to the stool, now visible to the entire school. She hastily wiped her hands on her skirt, not wanting to drench the Sorting Hat in sweat when she touched it, but her efforts were feeble. Imogen picked up the Sorting Hat and slid it over her head, which hid her face from the Great Hall. She immediately felt a powerful tingling sensation between her legs and wasn't sure what was happening. The only things she was sure of was that it was the material gliding over her head that had caused it, and that she liked it. The Sorting Hat immediately tightened around her head and groaned with it's deep voice that had entranced her before. She held her breath as it spoke.

"I already know what house you'll be in, but I want to make your sorting nice and long." The feeling between her legs intensified at these words and Imogen's panties became damp. For the first time ever, it wasn't from sweat. Imogen knew this wasn't normal, none of the other kids seemed to have this reaction, however she couldn't help but find it's smooth voice incredibly sexy.

"Sexy, am I?" asked the Sorting hat in an amused voice. Imogen would have been mortified at it's ability to hear her thoughts if she wasn't so turned on.

"Yes," thought Imogen, and a low growl echoed in her ears.

"Good." The Sorting Hat moved its brim down the back of her neck and began stroking, its movements hidden from the teachers by the thick material of her robes. She so desperately wanted to release a sigh of appreciation, but didn't, as she would draw attention to the scandalous events that were unfolding.

"Let it out," whispered the Sorting Hat, "No one can hear you in here, it's just you and me." Imogen moaned with relief, and wetness trickled down her thigh, soaking her stockings. She gripped the sides of the stool so hard her knuckles were turning white, and it took an enormous amount of effort to remain still, but she knew she had to. The whole school was watching her.

"You like being watched, don't you? You like me stroking your neck while everyone watches," said the Sorting Hat in a dominant voice, as it rubbed the back of her neck more vigorously. Imogen's breathing became ragged, coming out in short, harsh puffs. Dirty thoughts about what she wanted to do with the Sorting Hat, with it's point, were swimming around her head, and she knew it could hear all of them. Imogen's hands almost slipped off the stool from the sweat pouring out of them, but even her wet hands couldn't compete with the amount of fluid cascading down her legs. She tried to clench her thighs shut to stop it, but it was no use. The dirty talk and feeling of the Sorting Hat rubbing her neck was too much for her to handle. Imogen barely refrained from grinding down into the stool as the pressure below grew rapidly. Her body was on fire, and her senses were overloaded. She blocked the world out as she climaxed.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" screamed the Sorting Hat to everyone in the Great Hall as Imogen let out a cry, releasing the last of her fluid down her legs. Her eyes were clenched shut and her face resembled an expression of pure bliss. However, as the Sorting Hat loosened around her head and stopped rubbing her neck, she was brought back to reality.

"Meet me in Dumbledore's office tomorrow at midnight, the password is Ice Mice," whispered the Sorting Hat hastily. Imogen calmed her breathing, took off the Sorting Hat, and placed it back on the miraculously dry stool. For a moment, she was blinded by the light of the hall and stumbled around on her trembling legs, shaking the floor with her clunky shoes. She recovered quickly, but her whole body was weak as she made her way over to the Hufflepuff table, which was filled with people who were cheering, clapping and wearing robes with a black and yellow badger symbol displayed on the front. She hastily sat down without making eye contact with anyone, cheeks flaming from embarrassment. She had no idea if anyone knew what had just happened to her, and prayed that her robes were dark enough to hide the wetness that had leaked down her legs. When everyone's attention was focussed on the next girl being sorted, a wave of relief washed over Imogen. It seemed like the events of her sorting were a secret between her and her new favourite hat.

Throughout dinner a smile graced Imogen's face, as she was enjoying the idea of being at Hogwarts more than ever. The only time her smile faltered was when she made eye contact with Professor Dumbledore, who had a worrying twinkle in his eye.


End file.
